


We'll Never Be as Young as We Are Right Now

by kageygirl



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Cliche, F/M, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-20
Updated: 2011-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-22 21:12:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageygirl/pseuds/kageygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, Five Times Will Zimmerman Got a Little Nonverbal Affection From His Teammates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Never Be as Young as We Are Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> For technosagery's [Impromptu Kiss-a-thon](http://technosage.livejournal.com/283960.html). Much obliged to technosagery and shetiger for the beta assistance.

It took Will eighteen hours to talk the yllferia down from their hiding place in a dockside warehouse, terrified as they were of the city noise, traumatized by the journey to Old City and the unshielded emotions of the local human population. He's exhausted and his voice is shredded, but he's just too edgy to go right to bed.

He ends up in his office, poking through his email without reading any of the words. He's zoned out enough that he doesn't entirely register the Big Guy until he's setting a bowl and a teacup down on Will's desk with an unobtrusive clink.

The bowl's filled with chicken soup, he can tell from here, and he guesses--color, consistency, faint aroma--that the tea has honey in it.

Magnus is usually the one to get this kind of treatment. Sometimes it's Henry. Never Will. He looks a question up at the Big Guy.

He's got nothing left in him to duck when he sees the big hairy hand coming at him, but it settles gently on the back of his head, stroking down to his neck, and then again. "You did good," the Big Guy rumbles, and then he leaves, as quietly as he appeared.

Will eats his soup and drinks his tea, warmed through by more than food and drink, and starts to think maybe he could sleep.

* * *

"How's the head?"

Will looks up--too fast, apparently; he can't quite hold back a wince. Kate grimaces in sympathy and takes a few steps further into the infirmary. "Sorry."

Will waves it away--gingerly, without moving his neck. "My bad. Well, no, actually, I'm blaming the cernnorex. Who needs antlers like those, anyway?" He gives her half a smile, but Kate doesn't really return it--in fact, she's holding herself a little awkwardly, though she looks to have been neither gored nor trampled. "How about you? You okay?"

She shifts her hips, hands buried in the back pockets of her jeans. "Yeah, I'm--I'm good." She takes a decisive step up beside his bed as if steeling herself, and meets his eyes, defiant and shy all at once. "Listen, what you did back there--um, you really had my back, and I just..."

She's close enough that he can touch her shoulder, and he does, carefully. "Hey. You'd have done the same for me, right?"

"Shut up, okay?" she says, with some of her usual fire, and Will raises his hands in mock surrender, glad to see it.

Then she reaches out to touch his jaw, and now he's worried again. "Uh, Kate?"

"What part of 'shut up' sounded like I was asking?" She leans in and presses her lips quickly to the corner of his mouth, a fleeting kiss. "Thanks, Will."

"You're welcome," he says, and now Kate's the one waving him off. She frowns at him and crosses her arms over her chest, her stance becoming more familiar.

"And you really need to learn to duck, because you scared the crap out of me back there. I was afraid I was going to have to explain to Magnus how you went and got yourself killed, and that was _not_ a conversation I was looking forward to."

Will settles himself back against the inclined mattress, folding his hands over his stomach. "Yeah, I can see how that would have been inconvenient for you."

"Damn skippy." She takes a few steps backwards, towards the door, pointing at him as she goes. "And don't think I'm doing your paperwork for you while your lazy ass is laying around here."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Will says.

He smiles only after her back is turned.

* * *

There's enough people in the Mallukai speakeasy that Will feels pretty positive about their chances of meeting their contact and getting out without being noticed.

The Big Guy's out in the van, but they're hoping not to need him--Erudan wanted to keep the fact that he was dealing with the Sanctuary on the down-low. It seemed like a good idea for Will and Henry to go in alone, keep their heads down, meet with Erudan, and be on their way.

Or, it _had_ seemed like a good idea until right this second, with Henry blanching and muttering, "Oh, crap, that's Rodrigo."

He pulls Will into a darkened corner--well, an even-more-darkened corner, anyway; the bar's below street level, and dimly lit even by dive standards. "Rodrigo?" Will asks, quietly.

Henry's got almost all of his attention over Will's left shoulder. "By the stairs, leather jacket. We kind of got into it at a meeting I went to with Biggie the other month. He said something about Magnus."

Will keeps from looking behind him, and instead shakes his head slowly at Henry. "What kind of something?"

Henry take a break from looking freaked to favor Will with a "dude, are you stupid?" look. "Something way too ugly to repeat, okay?" He looks past Will again, and then tries to shrink further into the corner, though there's really nowhere left to go. "Annnd he's coming this way. The guy's _such_ a dick, he'll totally blow our cover..."

Maybe he's seen too many movies, but Will does the first thing that comes to mind: he crowds Henry against the wall and kisses him, cradling his face in both hands. Maybe they've both seen too many movies, because Henry goes right with it, digging his fingers into the front pockets of Will's jeans and pulling him closer, using Will's body to cover himself as best he can.

Henry's beard is scratchy-soft against Will's palms, his lips warm and pliant against Will's. _We're here for a reason,_ he reminds himself, and he pulls back to track Rodrigo in his peripheral vision--disappearing into a back room, lucky for them. "We're good," he whispers to Henry, and Henry blinks up at him, his eyes dilated.

"We are? I mean, yeah, we are. Good. We're good."

Will's cell buzzes with a text message, and he pulls it out. "Erudan's here," he says, and turns around to scan the club.

Henry coughs and clears his throat behind Will, and he ignores it, just like he's ignoring the phantom tingling in the palms of his hands.

* * *

Another selkie migration successfully shepherded across the North Sea. Henry bails early on the celebratory drinking--he's never been a spirits kind of guy, preferring beer or hard cider, much to Kate's amusement--so it's just Kate and Will and Declan and a good bottle of Scotch in the UK Sanctuary parlor.

Will's staring at a tapestry across the room, wondering whether the fantasy beasts depicted on it were actually invented by the weaver, or were being cataloged, when Kate's voice cuts into his thoughts. "Kiss him."

He focuses back on her in a hurry. Kate's looking at Declan, Declan's giving her an inscrutable look back, and Will, apparently, _really_ needs to be paying more attention to his teammates. "Wait, what?"

"Welcome back to the conversation, William," she says, tossing him a grin. She's got her feet dangling over one arm of an overstuffed chair, the rest of her twisted at an improbable angle to face the two of them where they're holding down either end of a matching sofa across from her. "My point exactly. I don't think either of you guys has it in you to really rock the undercover work. Declan's got military written all over him, and you--okay, remember the bank thing? If we hadn't been in the middle of West Podunk, no one would have bought you as a bank robber."

Will purses his lips. "I think I'm good with not being easily mistaken for a criminal."

She swirls her glass, making the ice cubes clink. "I'm just _saying_ , you're both a little too much the straight-laced, rah-rah authority kind of guys. If you're gonna scam someone, you need to use people who can roll with the punches."

Will nods slowly. "Like you."

"Like me," she says, with a casual shrug, and tips back her glass to chase out the dregs.

Will takes a drink to keep from grinning at her. He never told anyone what happened with Henry in the Mallukai bar, and apparently Henry didn't, either. Like hell he can't roll with the punches.

Declan settles back, drawing Will's attention, and sends him a companionable smile. He tips his glass at Will. "I disagree. I think that one's got some surprises in him."

The Scotch is very smooth, and all told, it's been a pretty good day. When Declan looks over at Will, a quick flick of his eyes giving Will an idea of what's coming, Will drops his chin in agreement.

Declan sets his glass on a side table, and then just sort of uncoils himself, coming across the sofa towards Will in one smooth motion. Will slides out from the corner to meet him, and then they're kissing like lovers reunited after a long absence. Declan sweeps his tongue through Will's mouth, and Will slides his fingers into Declan's short, cropped hair.

Kissing Henry was about concealment. This is about exhibition, and it's a whole different thrill, safer and more dangerous at the same time.

Will lets Declan bear him down onto his back, and he works a hand under Declan's shirt, fingers splayed over warm skin, and draws his knee up the outside of Declan's hip, so Kate can see it. Declan rubs a heavy hand up Will's thigh, and Will presses himself up, breaking away from the kiss to mouth at Declan's neck.

"Think we got her?" he whispers.

"That should do," Declan breathes, voice low and rough in Will's ear, and he pulls himself back--a little less gracefully than before, Will's pleased to note. Will's a little awkward, too, as he pushes himself upright and back against the armrest, keeping his knee bent almost casually. He can feel his cheeks heating up, and he looks over at Kate, both to see her reaction and to keep himself from looking back at Declan and blowing the whole show.

Kate's frozen, her glass in midair, staring at the both of them. She blinks a couple of times, then closes her mouth. "Okay. My bad." She sets her glass down and doesn't seem to notice she nearly misses the table. "I'm, uh, I'm just--I'm gonna go to bed."

She rolls out of her chair and heads for the door, looking back at them twice on her way. The second time, Will waves, and she puts her head down and all but barrels out of the room.

Yeah. He's definitely had worse days.

His glass is cool under his fingers, just a sliver of amber left to roll along the the inner curve. "Another?" Declan asks. His voice is whiskey-smooth again, but when Will looks back at him, his eyes are dancing.

Will licks his lips, tasting Scotch there that didn't come from from his own glass, and watches Declan's eyes track the movement with a heat Will can relate to, nothing to do with alcohol. He settles himself more comfortably against the armrest and raises his eyebrows. "I'm game if you are."

* * *

The Helvides midwinter rites are equal parts ceremony and celebration, Will finds, and he's glad Magnus invited him along to see them.

On the evening of the winter solstice, several couples are wed in a nighttime service deep in the woods, lit only by what seem to be hundreds of candles scattered around the glade. The effect is enchanting, not least because Magnus has been narrating the ceremony for him, quietly murmuring in his ear the whole time, a hand resting on his back to keep her balance.

The officiant raises his hands to the sky, and several pairs of youths appear from behind the altar, bearing long, upright poles with some sort of leafy vine stretched between them. Each pair walks forward from either side of the altar, passing the vines over the marrying couples, and then over the gathered crowd. Magnus shifts beside him as they get closer.

"He's asking us to bless their union by sharing their joy," she says quietly, with a tone in her voice that he can't quite place. Her hand moves against his back, flexing a little in the soft fabric of his shirt, and he glances over to find her eyes darting between him and the approaching vine-bearers. He looks more closely, and realizes that each vine contains living sprigs of mistletoe. All around them couples are sharing gentle kisses, and he turns to Magnus, slowly, not at all sure about what she's thinking.

"When in Rome, Will," she says, with a gleam in her eye that's far too bright to be reflected candlelight. She drops her hand from his back and catches his fingers, and her hands are surprisingly cool. The chill in her fingers, the tone of her voice, the watchful tension she's giving off--it clicks for him, suddenly, so out-of-place in this serene setting.

She's hiding it well, because she's still Helen Magnus. But Helen Magnus is nervous.

He squeezes her hand, his own none too steady, and murmurs, "I'd hate to cause an intercultural incident." She smiles, and leans in slowly, Will meeting her halfway.

Her lips, too, are chilly, but they quickly warm up. The kiss turns less than chaste, but never less than cherishing, sweet and tender. Magnus breaks it finally with a soft laugh, the same kind Will can feel bubbling up in his own chest.

Shared joy, indeed.

She raises a hand to his neck, rubbing her thumb along his jaw, in no apparent hurry to move away. Will rests his hands on her hips, and the smile she gives him is radiant.

"So, if I hadn't been free to come along with you...?" he asks, voice low in the intimate space between them.

She schools her features into an expression of polite regret, but her eyes are so, so bright. "I'm afraid I would have had to politely decline the invitation."

He can't help the grin that breaks out, and she drops the mask, her lips curving in a sly smile. He drinks it in for just a moment, and then asks, "Would it be considered bad luck for the happy couples if I were to kiss you again?"

"Quite the opposite," she says, and twines both hands behind his neck. She sways into him gently, the light in her eyes and the heat of her body banishing the last of the winter chill.

"In that case, it would rude not to wish them all the best," Will says, pulling her closer to do just that.


End file.
